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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736823">Sunday Morning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/botanicalTJ/pseuds/botanicalTJ'>botanicalTJ</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>boys loving boys [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outsiders - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Breakfast, Day Off, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cliches, soft darry curtis, soft tim shepard, sunday morning, tarry - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:20:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/botanicalTJ/pseuds/botanicalTJ</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, they deserve a lazy Sunday. // darryxtim</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Darrel Curtis/Tim Shepard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>boys loving boys [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunday Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"Just so easy when<br/>The whole world fits inside of your arms<br/>Do we really need to pay attention to the alarm?"</p><p>~"Banana Pancakes", Jack Johnson</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s early; too early, especially for a Sunday. They’re supposed to sleep in on days when neither of them had preoccupations from each other. These days are rare, so they take them seriously, seriously as any work day or scheduled obligation. But Darry can never stay in bed with him past seven, so Tim is unsurprised to wake up to cold bedsheets beside him, his arm limp at his side instead of wrapped around his love’s slender frame. But he still wishes they were still in bed as he pads to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Darry likes to cook breakfast in bare feet, even though the tiles are chilled this early in the morning, this time of year. It’s a strong contrast from how put together he is every other time of day. It’s nearly impossible to see him without such a rigid, polished structure, but these early mornings are the time for it. It’s worth getting up for;  Tim finds it endearing even if he wishes Darry would wear something warmer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eggs are sizzling in a pan and it’s like even the breakfast knows to hold the quiet blanket of contentment firmly over the room. The typical rush of the spatula scraping the pan and dishes clattering against the table is deafened to easy-going low heat. The coffee pot simmers on the stove, steam puffing from the top. Tim’s going to need a cup or two and he knows Darry will, too; it had really been only a few hours since they’d settled into bed for the night. Days like this one, with too little sleep between them, often felt sharp around the edges instead of comfortable enough to recharge from the week. But Tim has a feeling it’ll be the latter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He purposely drags his knuckles across the doorframe as he enters the kitchen, a subtle expression of sound to indicate his presence. If Darry happened to be awake because of a restless night instead of solely out of habit, he could be easily startled by a sudden new body in the room. He doesn’t verbally respond to the warning, but Tim can see the shift in how he holds himself, his spine straightening and his eyes going alert. It’s a silent bittersweetness between them, how Darry still feels the instinct to look well put together even when it’s only Tim’s eyes upon him, Tim’s eyes that always gaze much further than external impressions. But it lies in the back of their minds, out of priority, so all Tim can do is understand deeply and handle him with more care because of it. And that’s enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks up and slips his arms around Darry’s waist, happily accepts the weight leaning back against him. It feels like returning to a natural state, locking his embrace around Darry’s body in a form of protective affection that said everything he didn’t have the words for. He’s the slightest bit taller, enough to kiss the top of his head from behind. The corners of Darry’s lips turn up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would’ve woken you up when this was done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to get up at all,” Tim counters, reaching over to turn down the heat on the coffee. The eggs are getting crispy around the edges with a soft middle; coincidentally, just how Tim likes them. Darry flips them over carefully and the yolk stays intact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t sleep.” Darry shuts the stove off and moves the pan to a cool burner, carefully setting his spatula on a grease-stained paper towel. He turns around and Tim takes the opportunity to kiss him properly for the first time that morning. Drowsiness still lingers upon Darry’s face, in the creases of his forehead and his lackluster eyes. But it’s a Sunday, so if they feel like dozing later, they can. For now, Tim kisses him until his eyes light up enough to make up for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to make me breakfast.” Tim’s smiling when he pulls away, fingertips brushing along his jaw, pushing his hair back behind his ear, lingering on his cheeks where the lightest freckles were dusted over suntanned skin. If boys can’t be pretty then Darry must be from a place where they are. “It’s your day off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We still have to eat on my day off,” Darry points out, reaching up to hold Tim’s face. A kiss to his cheek and then the touch is phantom and Tim already misses how it feels to be held in a fleeting moment of tenderness. Darry already has plates ready and steaming bowls of oatmeal that Tim hadn’t noticed before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim busies himself pouring coffee since it’s the only part of the preparation that Darry hadn’t done yet. He makes his own with the sweetness and cream that makes the flavor bearable, and dumps a spoonful of sugar into the other. He carries both mugs to the table and sets them next to their places. It’s earlier than he usually eats, but the sight of the food makes the growl of hunger start in his stomach anyways. There are even peach slices in the oatmeal with milk poured atop, a higher effort for oatmeal than would be reasonable for an actual weekday. Darry has outdone himself, each attentive detail adding up to make a breakfast that seems simple but is actually quite considerate in its care. Tim isn’t surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the best, ya know?” On another day, Tim could insist that Darry didn’t have to prove himself like this, not every single time they sat down for a meal or planned an outing. But Darry knows where his feelings are about it; he’d said it often enough to drive the point home. And sometimes, he knows, it isn’t about proving himself anyways. Sometimes he just wants to give his time to show that he cares. And Tim knows he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words have their intended effect, Darry’s lips upturning in another grin. Tired as he must be, sleeping only a few hours and immediately getting to work upon waking, he looks perfectly peaceful and Tim hopes he’s as happy to be there as it seems. He knows it’s a rare opportunity, a privilege even to see Darry in these moments of softness, of gentle words and small gestures like waiting for Tim to taste his food before he himself eats his own. It’s rare to see Darry truly slowed down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They eat, and not much is said between them as they chew and swallow and pass each other the salt and pepper. The unwashed dishes can sit in the sink for a little while, mostly because the rest of the household is asleep and will be up to add to the mess later on. And also because Tim takes Darry right back to bed, threatening to sweep him off his feet if he doesn’t cooperate with the idea of just relaxing for the day. They both need it and they both know they do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that’s how their Sunday morning closes; they aren’t back in bed for very long before they’re both asleep again, full bellies leaving them satisfied and able to rest deep enough to feel alive when they wake up again. Darry’s arm is around Tim, holding him to his chest, and Tim’s got his hand threaded in Darry’s hair and they look like every lovesick couple as they kiss without words in the moments before dozing off. But they don’t care how it looks because no one has to see anyways.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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